


Master's Here

by Smashbeak



Category: Dracula (1931), Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gentleness, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insanity, M/M, Master/Servant, One Shot, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14312685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smashbeak/pseuds/Smashbeak
Summary: Renfield has been out all night. What has happened to him?





	Master's Here

**Author's Note:**

> I'm using the names of the Brides from Van Helsing

It was a rather ordinary night in Transylvania. Verona, Aleera, and Marishka were chatting away about whatever they could come up with whilst Lucy was reading one of her numerous novels on grim poetry. The Count himself was pacing the room as something was relentlessly bothering him. Everything seemed normal; the moon was as bright as ever, the wolves were making the enchanting music that was their howling, and everyone in the castle was satisfied from the liquid feast they had a half hour ago.

  
However, something was missing, something that always completed such a pleasant night. Dracula glanced over to the corner of the reading room to find that the cobwebs were overrun with an array of spiders as well as their prey. This familiar sight was unsettling to Dracula that night. Usually, Renfield would be crouched in that exact corner eating away at the vermin. Come to think of it, he hasn't seen Renfield since dinner and he was always there for that. Dracula pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.

  
_'Two hours until sunrise, where could he be?'_

 

The Count sharply exhaled as he withdrew the watch into his coat. He turned to his brides and approached them in a rush, though he made sure they didn't notice. The four women casually raised their heads to look at their master.  
  
"Have any of you seen Renfield lately?"  
The girls glanced at each other with a hint of concern in their eyes. Lucy straightened her posture and coolly replied,

  
"No, I can't say we have."

  
Dracula simply nodded and swiftly stepped out the door. As he did, he happened to hear the ladies whisper in frantic tones. He never thought they would worried about any human let alone Renfield. On his way out, Dracula grabbed his cloak, leather gloves, and wide brim hat. As soon as he put all of them on, he walked out the front door without a word.

  
The air was still crisp from the winter that has long since passed. Dracula treaded down the worn, dusty steps until his shoes came into contact with cold, dead soil. He took a deep inhale through his nose, hoping he would catch Renfield's scent. He did. The Count then took form of smoke to pass through the thick brush and trees in a flash. As soon as he was successful, he shape shifted into a large, beautiful, gray wolf. If there was one thing Renfield would listen to, it would be the sound of his master's call. Dracula let out a long, desperate howl that echoed throughout the entire forest. He waited and waited.

Nothing.

No answer.

No whisper.

Not even a poor rendition of the wolf's cry.

The dark canine emitted a saddened whimper and he began to run through the bundle of trees and foliage. As he continued to sprint, Dracula barked and howled for as much as he could. None of those calls received a response. Frustrated, Dracula converted back to his vampire form. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted.

  
"Renfield! Renfield!"

  
Nothing. The vampire's eyes started to moisten and burn with tears, but they were immediately dried with the brush of a sleeve. As a last resort, Dracula morphed into a bat and listened for any sign of Renfield. At first, there was silence, but suddenly it was broken by... sobbing. A smile crept across the bat's face.

  
_'Could it be?'_

  
Dracula soared past the shrubs and untamed wildlife, searching for his companion.

  
Companion.

  
That word has been ringing through his head for so long. Ever since he first welcomed Renfield into his clan, he always considered Renfield to be more than just a slave. Sure, Dracula always made time for each of his concubines, but Renfield was different. Out of the people he changed, Renfield was the only one who showed actual compassion towards the Count. Wherever Dracula went, Renfield wanted to go. Whenever he was feeling down, Renfield would be the first one to console him. If Dracula had to remember something, Renfield would be the man to ask. It seemed that he was more than just a lackey, he was a friend. No, a paramour.

  
Dracula reached the area from where the sound has been originating and he changed back to his normal self. The sobbing was much clearer now, Renfield was behind the tree. The Count stepped very carefully over the twigs and leaves to get even the slightest glimpse at his apprentice. What he saw made his dead heart sink. Renfield was alive, but was covered in bruises and scratches that could be seen even through the parts of his clothes that weren't torn to shreds. His usually unkempt hair was now disastrous and caked with dirt. In fact, every part of Renfield was filthy, including his face, which would sometimes be washed away by the tears constantly pouring out of his eyes. Dracula looked on in heartbreak and disbelief. Who or what would do this to his beloved? He tiptoed closer and whispered, trying to hold back his own sobs,

  
"Renfield?"

  
In a flash, Renfield snapped his eyes upward and hugged his body tight as if trying to protect himself.

  
"Please... Don't hurt me..."

  
Dracula shook his head trying to wake himself from this awful dream. No use. This was real. Removing his hat, he kneeled down and gently wrapped his arm around Renfield. The human looked up at his superior.

  
_'Master has never been this affectionate before.'_

  
Dracula rested his head against the crook of Renfield's neck and ran his sharp nails through his lover's hair.

  
"Why would I do that?"

  
Renfield's shaking grew more intense and his crying became more audible.  
Dracula held Renfield tighter, careful not to bruise him.

  
"Who did this to you?"

  
"You wouldn't believe me." Renfield lamented.

  
The Count gave his servant a warm grin.

  
"Try me."

  
Renfield sniffled and uttered out a single word.

  
"Lucy."

  
The Count's smile immediately faded and his eyes ever so slightly widened.

  
_'Preposterous! How could Lucy-'_

  
No. Renfield would never lie to him.

  
Dracula placed his hands on Renfield's face with such urgency.

  
"Renfield, are you sure it was Lucy?"

  
His apprentice nodded.

  
"Yes, and your brides."

  
The vampire reeled back covering his mouth. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could his most trusted followers turn against each other? He watched in grief as Renfield curled up and began to sob even louder.

  
"Renfield please," he croaked, "Don't cry. Don't -"

  
Dracula couldn't hold back the tears any longer and they immediately dripped down his face. He pulled Renfield close to him and shook profusely. Renfield calmed down and pushed himself away.

  
"Master!" he whispered, "You're crying."

  
He lifted his hand and wiped the tears off of the cold face before him. Dracula gently held Renfield's wrist and stared into his eyes. This stare wasn't to hypnotize, but to let his love know that everything will be alright. He held the beaten man bridal style and stood up.

  
"Let's go home."

  
"Wait!"

  
Renfield held out an open palm towards the ground and Dracula knelt down. The human took his master's hat and placed it on the owner's head. This simple action nearly made Dracula burst into tears again, but he kept his smile. Throughout the walk home, the men gazed into each other's eyes and kissed. The crickets and crows must have been relaxing because when the Count looked down at his beloved, his eyes were shut and his breathing was slow. When he stepped through the doors of his castle, his melancholy turned into a boiling rage. As soon as he caught sight of the women, he shot them an intimidating glare. He carried Renfield up the stairs and into the bathroom where he sat him onto a chair.

  
"Stay here, alright? I'll be right back."

  
Renfield watched his master turn around and shut the door behind him. Turning the doorknob, Renfield listened carefully as the footsteps got more and more muted with every step taken. Then he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. The slam of a door and fierce yelling. He couldn't understand what Dracula was saying due to both the distance and the fact that he was speaking a different language. Renfield then heard women shouting in foreign tongue, most likely the three wives. Lucy then joined in.

  
"Why do you care for him? He's just a mortal!"

  
"This isn't what I'm talking about! Now you will tell me why you did that to Renfield!"

  
"You only pay attention to him! We have your blood! Not him! He's just another meal to us!"

  
"Lucy's right," Aleera chimed in, "but we didn't want to feed on his slimy ooze so we decided to kill him!"

  
"You dare to harm a follower?! I am disgusted at you all!"

  
"He don't deserve to live," Marishka growled, "He's keeps you from us!"

  
"What does he have that we don't?!" Verona screamed.

  
"COMPASSION!" the Count roared, "Renfield has more compassion and loyalty than any of you will ever have!"

  
The vampire then mumbled something else that was out of hearing range. Silence hummed in Renfield's ears when he heard approaching footsteps. He quickly closed the door and waited. Dracula came in and placed his hands on the sides of the sink. He stood there for what seemed to be an eternity then he began to take off his cape. He removed his amulet and coat as well and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves.

  
"Undress." he murmured.

  
Renfield proceeded to shed the filthy rags that were once his clothes as the Count ran the hot water in the tub. Renfield took off the last article of clothing and stood still as a Greek statue, beautiful yet vulnerable. He barely registered his master's surprisingly gentle order to get in the tub.

  
"They twisted my ankle." he groaned.

  
Dracula sighed, trying not to envision exactly how his women did it. He picked up Renfield and carefully placed him in the tub. As he did, the heat startled but relaxed the fragile brunette who let out a gasp and shudder. The vampire grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap. He lathered them together in the water until it was a soft foam.

  
“Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered.

  
For the next fifteen minutes, the only noises heard were small splashes and speaking in hushed volumes. Those minutes, however, felt like an eternity. Despite the sore body and the occasional wince from the soap interacting with the open wounds, Renfield wished this could never end. The warm water eased his pain and left him in a state of pure bliss. His eyes fluttered open and gazed at his master, who is completely occupied with washing his own servant. Renfield mentally chuckled at the irony. He also couldn’t help but notice how calm he was. For the first time in a long while, he actually felt (at least that’s what he believes to be) sane. Memories of his life before meeting Dracula came rushing back piece by piece. He remembered being a child, his time at the university, and he especially remembered his mother and father.

  
Suddenly, the bad memories came slithering in. Renfield remembered those religious villagers warning him not to go to the castle, the eerie ride on the stagecoach, the strange way Dracula acted, and when he gave him that wine. The memories flooded in even faster now. Waking up, limbs tied to the bed, the bite, the blood, the diminishing self-control, his first taste of flies. More thoughts came back to him. The ship! The dying crew! The police! The asylum! The doctors! The nurses! That bastard Alfred! The straight jacket! The pills! The shock therapies! The constant poking and prodding! The laughs and screams from his fellow patients! The spiders! The Master's promise! The girl! The poor, dear girl! The escape! The Master! Angry! Betrayed! Strangling! Can't breathe! All red! No light! Alone! Alone! Alone! **Alone! Alone! _Alone!_**

  
"Renfield!"

  
The man's eyes blinked and focused. He felt like he blacked out for a moment. He looked at the Count and felt as if he should be afraid of him, that he should run.

  
But he didn't know why. He chose not to panic. Instead, he gave Dracula a kind, heartwarming smile.

  
“Master.”

  
“Please,” the Count hushed, “tonight you may call me Dracula.”

  
“Okay… Dracula.”

  
The vampire picked up his servant, wrapped him in a large, white towel, and carried him all the way to said servant's room. He gently laid the mortal down on his bed and draped the covers over him.

  
“Dracula.”

  
“Yes?” the living corpse responded.

  
“Can you sleep here tonight?”

  
Dracula pondered for a while and walked away. Renfield was just about to weep when he heard the sound of curtains being drawn. He turned his head to see his master closing the curtains and putting out the fireplace afterwards. He walked back to the bed and climbed in. He wrapped his arm around the other man and snuggled close to him. Dracula placed a kiss on Renfield's shoulder and rested his head.

  
“I love you, Renfield.”

  
Shocked at those words, the brunette grinned and closed his eyes.

  
“I love you too… Dracula.”

  
Master and servant slept in bed for the rest of the night and all throughout the day. Despite one being undead, both men were warm to the touch.


End file.
